


Through half-closed eyes

by Chysack



Series: every tear in the sky will die [4]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: ? - Freeform, AC IV being Desmond's vacation spot, Angst, Character Study, Constantinople, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Kinda, angsty fluff, brief mention of/reflexion on DID, nap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:22:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27711311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chysack/pseuds/Chysack
Summary: For once, just once, he can rest.
Relationships: Ezio Auditore da Firenze/Sofia Sartor (mentioned)
Series: every tear in the sky will die [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2017274
Kudos: 18





	Through half-closed eyes

One would think that having nothing but Ezio's life and Sixteen to distract him would make him breeze through the memory segments, especially with his mental health and potentially his life on the line. One would be wrong.  
Desmond's feelings towards the Animus are complicated, it's just a fact. The machine is what made him who he currently is, body and soul, it's not something he would simply remove from the equation that makes him if he ever got the opportunity. Not without long reflection. Maybe not at all, as unhealthy as it may seem. Though really... since he probably doesn't have a choice, his acceptance of the damages are probably for the better.  
Yes, sometimes he doesn't know whose thoughts he is thinking. Sometimes he feels so young, impossibly young for all that he has lived. Sometimes he does not remember what he was doing or saying, he speaks in tongues, he has feelings that don't make sense. He'd read about DID, before. Before the Animus and Abstergo, when Lecea decided to tell him that she was part of a System. He hadn't read a lot, just enough to know what would be insensitive or helpful. Just enough to know that what he is, what he has, is fundamentally different. Ezio and Altaïr are not here with him, they never were, they never seemed to be. They can't interact with him or each other because they aren't alive anymore, never will be again, not even in this body that does not really feel like his own anymore. They have become part of him, their personalities affecting and altering his own until he changed so much that turning back would feel a lot like dying.   
Maybe that is why he does not hurry, while walking along Constantinople's rooftops, avoiding guards and Templars alike.

He likes it here. Being here in Constantinople, with the knowledge that there is only Sixteen outside, no one to hurry him along, to get him out, to ask him where his training is going, to lie to him. Or, well, Sixteen could. Maybe he did. But it feels so much less invasive in the Animus Island, coming from another Subject. It feels so much more like knowledge, like shared experience. So much less like the weaponization of his mind.  
He can take his time. He can forget the world, just for a bit. Time is strange here, and his body is still moving outside, they aren't at their destination yet. Maybe they will never be. Maybe there is no destination anymore.He, frankly, can't quite bring himself to care.  
Not when the sun is shining warm and soft above him, and dozens of voices and accents are mingling together under him. He really, really likes Constantinople. Ezio isn't in such a hurry, here. He's older, and not here for vengeance. His temper is softer. And...

Ezio's eyes open as the door to Sofia's shop open and close, letting out a customer or friend, he cannot say. He gets up from the bench he was sitting on, beside two boys invested in an intense conversation, and goes see her. With a smile, Desmond leaves him to it, basking in the quite simple contentment Ezio is feeling. Talking doesn't demand as much concentration from him as most other activities, and he can simply sit back and relax in it. 

He deviates from Ezio's past after that, choosing to take the high way instead of the crowded streets, and lets their sight turn to darkness. Not too many guards up there, for once. And here is a very nice balcony with well maintained greenery-  
A slight jump later and he makes himself at ease, unafraid of discovery. The Animus never programs people on those balcony, no matter how long he stays. Eyes half-closed, he lets the eagle vision lure him to not-quite-dreams, soft hues of gold, blue, white and black shifting before him like landscape he cannot quite remember. He feels almost content, fake sun warming fake clothes warming the fake skin of this not-him body. Never him. When's the last time he saw the sun? The colors shift again, soft and slow, Altaïr's rather than Ezio's. The discrepancies between the two Masters Assassins' eyes were strange at first, even without mentioning his own vision, but he finds them comforting now. He knows them and himself. They shaped him, but what they shaped was still him, is still him. No matter how different.  
He is still smiling when the red appears, urging him to go back amidst the safety of the crowd or risk the guards' shouting. He follows the urge.  
Let him keep this peace just a little longer, just a little softer.

**Author's Note:**

> Listen guys, I tried to not make it as angsty as usual and I'm not sure about the results. Do have to start somewhere though, right?


End file.
